


I never wanted to be free

by Plata_y_Verde



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Guardian Angels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plata_y_Verde/pseuds/Plata_y_Verde
Summary: The only thing that tied Grantaire to that world forged in rejection was Enjolras. Still, he never wanted to be freed from his chains.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation of my fic "Nunca quise ser libre". If you see a fault, feel free to correct it.

It was hard for him to breathe. He felt like something was pressing his chest and his respiratory tract was getting smaller with each passing second. That was awful. His eyelids were so heavy he couldn’t open his eyes, he was awake, but his body didn’t obey his orders. His shoulder blades burned as if he had forged metal under the skin instead of bones. He didn´t even have the strength to open his mouth but he felt nauseous.

That kind of travels weren’t pleasant and he always felt uneasy and still he never felt that bad, even though he had lived many tricky moments.

He tried to shout, to ask for help but he only heard a strangled growl.

He started to take control of his body very slowly. He still had his eyes closed when succeeded in moving his arm. His hand touched a metal bar.

 

 

 

“What you propose is extremely risky, Enjolras” Combeferre placed his glasses on the top of his nose while looked at Enjolras like he were his mother and not his fifteen years old friend. “I understand it’s for a good cause,” He cleared out before his friend could reply “I’m just saying it’s dangerous. Your plan could be better.”

Enjolras’ delicate face went from disappointment to the deepest anger. He finally raised his chin, showing his almost feline pride.

“We didn’t need your help, Courfeyrac and I can do it without you, right?” He looked Courfeyrac, who gave him an apologetic smile. “I can’t believe you two are that selfish. You put your security before everything, but who will protect those poor people? They should have the same rights we have! They should be able to live with dignity!” He was flustered and his eyes seemed more penetrating than usual. “I want to believe I have misheard you, since it hurts knowing that you won’t help me though you know slavery is this century’s defect. It may be that people didn’t work all day without being paid, but they are treated as if they were monsters and not our equals. Your lack of empathy disgusts me.”

He was only trying to make them feel bad about their cowardice. He understood he didn’t get what he wanted when Combeferre reached the door.

“You are crazy.” He said before leaving.

“I will help you in a few years, you know, when we don’t meet at your parents’ house.”

“Torture won’t wait for you” Enjolras shouted, watching them as the leaved.

 

 

 

He tried to understand what was happening to him. He still felt his head heavier than usual and it was difficult for him to think quickly. At least he had his eyes opened now, even though that didn’t help him much, since the only thing he could see due to the darkness were the bars of the cage where he was locked.

Moments ago he barely could breathe but now he breathed faster with every passing second, getting closer and closer to anxiety.

He was a fool, a dumb, he was useless. He had known something was in danger, but he didn’t imagine it was his life. He didn’t want to die in such a pathetic way.

Tears were coming out of his eyes because of all the frustration and fear. He had been precipitated and that was precisely why he had ended up locked up who knew where, without being able to move and with his head aching increasingly. He knew that _he_ was in danger, but he couldn’t protect him.

At another point he could have escaped easily. At another point, with the odds in his favor, without having his senses dulled and his wings stiffened, he could have been a good guardian angel for one time in his fucking celestial life, for one fucking time in his multiple lives.

“We are guardians, not equals.” He had been told the first time he tried to go down to earth “You are nothing without him and I almost understand the infinite love that you profess him, but you have to understand you will never be his equal. He is more valuable than you are, but you have the means needed to take care of him. You would be in danger even if you go down following the rules, you would be useless there.”

He kept trying to go down again and again. He liked being near him, he enjoyed imagining that he could remember him for a while, maybe until the next time. Being honest, he enjoyed ignoring the harsh reality.

Nevertheless he have never done such madness. He had run away without precaution since he felt his protégé was in unimaginable danger. He thought it would be easy due to the fact that he didn’t have his camouflage on so he kept his powers.

He hadn’t taken into account the human nature.

Humans were wild, they were cowards. They hated progress and they were afraid of the different. They would sink in their own misery before admitting their mistakes. Grantaire hated humans without any doubt and, at the same time, he saw himself portrayed in them.

But Enjolras was worth it. He was not blinded by his own ego. He loved progress and liberty from the beginning of time, although he had never seen them. Grantaire could feel the sun making its way through the clouds in his own mind when he thought of him.

When he thought of him he felt a desire beyond limits of looking after him. On the other hand, if he thought about himself he remembered he have never succeeded in.

 

 

 

His heart was beating fast due to excitement or maybe fear, and his adventure was barely starting. He had avoided his parents successfully and he was going to ‘The circus of horrors’. He could felt the adrenaline born of the knowledge that he was doing the right thing.

Enjolras also was more afraid while he approached to the place with only a matchbox and a deformed metal that used to play the role of a master key.

_What am I afraid of?_ He thought sometimes trying to be sure of what he was doing.

He was afraid of the noises he did while walking and he felt insecure without his friends by his side. But there was something that scared him the most. He had no doubt that fear was caused by ignorance, gossip and prejudice, but he cannot avoid feeling it. He was afraid of provoking his own tragedy.

But he was going to do it because he was guided by something stronger than his own reason. If he were not the most faithful believer in man's self-determination, he would have called it destiny, or perhaps divine intervention.

Once he saw his aim in the distance he put out the match that had served as a crude torch all the way up there. He trusted his sense of orientation. He had studied this place much more than his favorite books and he didn’t want to be discovered due to a negligence.

 

 

 

His hair bristled before the light shone on his body, darkened by the shadows of the bars. He had barely been there for a couple of days, and he had already learned a valuable lesson: he should not trust anyone, though his appearance might even look kind in that awful place.

He let out an almost animal growl when the light dazzled him and tried to sharpen his wings, but he lacked strength.

However, he moved backwards as soon as he could see the face of his companion. He moved backwards because his duty was to protect him, whether outside danger or himself.

“Calm down.”

He closed his eyes. His voice was strong and yet it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He used to forget that sort of thing, he sadly used to forget too many things, but he always made him felt the same. Hearing him for the _first_ time was the most heavenly blessing thing he had ever felt.

He heard a metallic sound, but he didn’t dare to open his eyes until he managed to control his breath. He looked at him, afraid of himself. Enjolras couldn’t stop looking at him, his mouth slightly open.

He reached for him, for his wings, but that movement died before ending.

“Are you real?” He should have been scared and yet he seemed impressed. He was so special. “I mean… your wings, are they… natural? Are they real?”

He didn’t want to get out of his cage, not now. He knew what would happen if he saw him clearly, he was aware that it was not the right thing. Still he wanted that to happen, he wanted Enjolras realizing everything.

He felt his fingertips running over his forearm for a few seconds before the contact abruptly ended with a hiss.

“You are burning up,” He felt Enjolras near him, closer than he would have wanted “You may have a fever due to the deplorable conditions…” The phrase died prematurely when he approached the match to his face. Grantaire saw a mixture of horror and longing on his face. His back hit the back of the cage, he wanted to run away from Enjolras. “Grantaire…” He mumbled like he was saying a painful truth.

“No.” He warned Enjolras before he could touch him again, stopping the hand that was longing to touch his cheek “Don’t touch me” He let out a breath he had been holding “Listen to me, Enjolras. I don’t care what you have remembered, go away and…”

“No!” His broken cry got lost in the night “No, no, no. You can’t go again.”

Grantaire almost laughed because he had always gone because of him.

“I'm dangerous, don’t you understand? You and I are opposites. I will hurt you if you don’t obey me and I must protect you. You can’t…” He knew him, he knew that he always wanted to say too many things in the last moment, all the things he hadn’t have said in a lifetime. “Not at the moment, not…”

The last word (a ‘now’  that never came into existence) got buried in Enjolras’ lips. He tried to push him away but he was still too weak.

When he got away from him his legs failed and a barely audible sob came from between his lips.

There was dead silence, but there was noise in his head. Over and over he heard words he should never have ignored, he listened to his requiem as he felt his heartbeat becoming more relaxed, almost scattered: _Under no circumstances should you go down without the necessary precautions. It would be a slow suicide and a quick massacre at a the same time. A prolonged contact with your human will be the dead of you both._

Before dying, with his gaze fixed on the inert body of Enjolras he realized that he himself had been the danger he had predicted. He was unable to protect anyone.

He knew without any doubt that there would be a next time.

Enjolras had freed him from that cage, but, still dying, Grantaire would remain a slave to his duty.

 


End file.
